Remote, In The Classic Sense
“The experience is the reason, photography is the outcome.” - Ben Christensen
What made this trip so special was the experience of living for a week with 14 other people in a space smaller than my townhouse. The experience of not having internet access for a week. The experience of barbecuing and standing around a fire in such a remote and desolate landscape. The experience of cranking a sail up a 70’ mast. The experience of manning a shift from 2-4am with two others, taking turns spotting for icebergs, watching the radar, and steering the ship. And the experience of going home with new, lifelong friends with the hope of more adventures together.
I signed up for a photo workshop organized by Andy Mumford and Jeroen Van Nieuwenhove where we spent a week sailing the Scoresby Sund in Eastern Greenland aboard the Tilvera (sailing with North Sailing), a 22m steel ketch. We flew into a remote airport with a dirt airstrip and walked about a mile to the embarkation point, where the fleet of three sailboats (Opal, Hildur, and Tilvera) were anchored. Our captain, Heimir, loaded us onto a zodiac and took us to our boat, where the rest of the crew (Belen, Christof, and Raíssa) welcomed us on board.
The first two days were perfectly moody just like I had always envisioned Greenland to be. Sailing along the water intermittently passing icebergs reminded us that we weren’t in Kansas anymore. Massive glaciers and mountains covered in clouds showed us just how big this landscape was. And then we got the call, there might be a polar bear ahead, prepare yourself! I couldn’t even make up what happened next. We spotted a polar bear walking along the water’s edge peering into the water. Before we knew it, he took a big leap into the water and started swimming for an iceberg. Then he not only climbed onto the iceberg, he then walked behind it and as if reading our minds, looked straight at us through a “window” in the iceberg. He then proceeded to walk up towards the top of the iceberg and sit there looking around for what seemed like forever, as if modeling just for us. How can a trip possibly get better after seeing a polar bear on day 2?
Well, Greenland was not done with us. Over our remaining 5 days it seemed like each day brought us something unique. Taking a zodiac through an iceberg city (where the water is “shallower” and the massive icebergs all get trapped there), seeing an absolutely epic sunset paint the sky, icebergs, and water variations of orange, red, then pink then blue. Motoring the boat and navigating around small icebergs and chunks of ice, only to setup anchor for the night and have more ice float our way, forcing us to move to safer harbors. We saw seals laying on small icebergs, raised our sails to ride the breeze, and passed icebergs the size of city blocks, emulating familiar shapes such as royal thrones or cupcakes, even a dragon.
In order to visit the only semblance of civilization, Ittoqqortoormiit, a town of about 350 people, on our last day, we had to sail through the night. The crew had been working hard all week already around the clock, and we were sailing in the darkness through the last stretch of water with icebergs. To make the overnight voyage possible, us participants signed up for shifts to bolster our crew of 4 so they could take rotating turns of sleeping. I ended up on the 2-4am shift with our guide Andy and one of our crew, Christof. We took 30 minute shifts rotating between spotting icebergs from the bow, steering the ship, and watching the radar for icebergs (and making sure the person at the helm saw the spotters directions). Two A.M. is the darkest time of night and made the watch that much more special. Needing a spotlight to spot the small icebergs, seeing the orange glow of the sun that barely dipped below the horizon, and watching big white icebergs glow in the night as we slowly drifted past them.
As much as Greenland showed out for our cameras, the best parts of the trip were hanging out on deck with amazing people, reading in the warm sun trying not to nod off, and smiling with gratitude at every wonderful piece of nature only found in the most extreme parts of the world. I’ll never be able to show you the true Tilvera experience, but I’ll do my best.
